


Down To The Bone

by TallowCat



Category: Final Fantasy IX
Genre: Gen, I am so sorry, It's not graphic or anything so don't worry, Self-Harm, Self-Hatred, Self-Mutilation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-04
Updated: 2016-06-04
Packaged: 2018-07-12 03:36:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 707
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7084030
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TallowCat/pseuds/TallowCat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sharp and sturdy.<br/>It wouldn’t snap against bone, instead he’s hope it’d break it.<br/>The bone connecting it to him.<br/>The nerves and pain meant little.<br/>It had to be gone.<br/>Sharp and willing he gripped it tightly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Down To The Bone

Left, right.  
A flick one way and then another.  
The same lovely silver as his hair one could say.  
It wasn’t right.

It didn’t fit, it was horrible.  
He hated it, this wasn’t what he wished to be.

_Horrible horrible horrible horrible horrible horrible horrible-_

He wished never to be one.  
Being born – barely born more so simply created – as a creature like this was disgusting.  
He was disgusting.  
A horrible amalgamation of things he hated about himself were the things most noticeable.  
A silver tail.  
A thing he hated.

What a disgusting thing to see.

He wanted it gone.  
It didn’t fit right.  
He didn’t want to have it.  
An ugly silver it shone.  
He wanted nothing to do with them or their tails.

_He wanted it gone, gone gone gone_

Magic hadn’t worked.  
No change and it stayed.  
Flicking left and right as if to taunt him.  
Connected to his spin how hard could it be to break?  
His own body…  
A disgusting thing it was in honesty.

He hated it with more passion then most things.  
What other front besides pure love for ones self could he put up?  
Disgusting, really.  
Disgust and hate.  
It all made him sick to his stomach.  
Who would wish such a thing?  
To be the same as all others?  
He was hardly an individual.

_Disgusting, disgusting disgusting disgusting disgusting disgusting-!_

Sharp and sturdy.  
It wouldn’t snap against bone, instead he’s hope it’d break it.  
The bone connecting it to him.  
The nerves and pain meant little.  
It had to be gone.  
Sharp and willing he gripped it tightly.

For who would want a tail if it signified ones slavery to another’s will?

It hurt, truly it did.  
Cutting what is essentially a limb – maybe an appendage he never cared to know – hurt horribly.  
It wasn’t easy and it stung.  
Cutting flesh was no simple task when your entire body wished to stop.

Not smooth, he cold hardly stop shaking as the pain ran directly up his spine.  
It was a tail, he couldn’t see his direct movements properly.  
Running on a mix of prior knowledge and self-hate he wished it to end.  
Whether that be the tail off or him stopping his mind could not choose.

A scrap on bone, it hurt even worse.  
If he were strong enough he’d bring it down in one movement.  
Rip off that hideous silver flicker.  
It rattled everything inside him.  
His free hands nails ripped at the skin it could grab, almost mirroring the manner the blade sunk through his tail.

Horrible, disgusting, unworthy.  
He wanted to be sick, everything was in pain and it felt like nothing he’d ever experienced. 

Disgusting and bloody.  
Something that wouldn’t heal.  
Down to the bone was easy.  
But by that point all the pain had rushed further up and he couldn’t stop the chocked pain.  
The blade, coated in disgusting blood and horrible silver hair, was dropped.

It wasn’t simple.  
It hadn’t worked.  
Instead of being ripped clean off it now lay limp behind him.  
It still clung to him and it made him sick.  
Sicker then the feeling of pain up his spine.  
It was disgusting.

But maybe, he guessed, it fit him better now then before.  
A disgusting tail for a disgusting man.  
It wouldn’t heal.  
At that time it mattered little, all he wished for was an end.  
For he did not wish to live his life as something controlled by another.  
He wished to be an individual.

 

It could not be removed so Kuja hid it.  
Out of sight out of mind, as they say.  
Now he could pretend he was more then that tail proved.  
Kuja was an actor in many ways.  
He could act as though he were his own and not another’s.

He could act as though he weren’t so disgusting.

For what better way for a disgusting man to live then to make himself more beautiful than others?

Lop-sided and scarred he pretended it didn’t exist.  
Horrible and silver he pretended he wasn’t what it said.

But in the end Kuja was little more then a pawn.  
At least…  
That is what he told himself before the storm rolled in and he distanced himself for good…


End file.
